“So you’ve always been a champion for the downtrodden and the underdog,” he grins.
“Let me guess; you’re a Yankees fan.”
“I knew you were smart.”
I flash him a wry grin. “And I thought you were,” I fire. “Guess I was wrong.”
He laughs long and loud, his voice booming out over the small lake. “She shoots, she scores.”
“And let me guess – you’re a Rangers fan as well,” I add, rolling my eyes.
“Which would mean you’re an Islanders fan.”
“Of course,” I tell him. “I only support the best.”
“Maybe you haven’t seen the Isles play in a while –”
“Shut up,” I squeal with laughter as I slap him on the arm.
My breath comes out in steamy plumes that drift away on the breeze. The sky above is the color of slate with the whispered hint of rain – perhaps even the first flakes of snow – that will be coming soon. It’s cool right now and it will be getting much colder very soon, but I find this kind of weather invigorating.
We’re sitting in a small, somewhat secluded section of Central Park. Surrounded by trees, lots of green, and small hills, it’s easy to forget that we’re square in the middle of the crazed hustle and bustle of Manhattan. Sitting on the park bench in front of the peaceful, mostly still waters of a small lake, it’s easy to forget we’re not up in the Catskills or something.
I breathe deeply, taking in a chest full of the cool, crisp air. I savor it. Relish the way it seems to energize me and clear my mind. I look over at Sawyer and give him a small smile.
“Thank you for this,” I say. “Sitting out here is – just what I needed.”
“I just got the feeling you needed to be somewhere without walls for a while,” he replies.
I nod. “You don’t know how true that is.”
When I finish off the last of my hot dog and chips, Sawyer takes my plate along with his, walking them over to a trash can. He comes back and drops down onto the bench beside me, and all I can think is how good and reassuring his presence feels. It should be the last thing on my mind – he should be the last thing on my mind. And yet, I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t help feeling comforted by having him beside me.
It’s crazy to me to think that in such a short span of time – excluding our college years, of course – I’ve come to feel the way I feel about him. Especially given that we’re on opposite sides of the aisle about so many things. He is the sort of corporate CEO type I typically find reprehensible. The sort who doesn’t give a damn about the common person and the type who will ruin people’s lives all in the name of profit. Compass Development, like many other companies out there, victimize people just to turn a buck.
And yet, there is a good heart beneath his gruff, corporate CEO exterior. Beneath the façade, Sawyer puts up and shows to the world is a good man. About that, Rider was very right. I’m just shocked as hell to see it. And yet I can’t deny that he’s nothing like the image he projects. He cares about people. Or at least, he cares about me, and that has led him to doing right by the people I’m trying to protect. But he’s funny. He’s warm. Kind. Thoughtful and intelligent.
Basically, beneath the mask he wears, he’s everything I never thought he was back in college. He’s everything I never believed he was capable of being. It scares me to admit, but I trust him. I feel comfortable with him. And yeah, I care about him.
But I can’t lie to myself either – I still have a certain wariness about him underneath all the hearts and flowers. Sawyer was always a player back in school. He probably slept with ninety-nine percent of the female students. If not, it sure seemed like it, anyway. He was with a different girl every few days, and there seemed to be a never-ending line of women who were all just waiting for a chance to throw their panties at him – and then be discarded a very short time later. It was like screwing Sawyer West was a badge of honor among the female student body or something. And there’s a small piece of me that wonders if he’s still like that – if he’s still a player whose only interest is in banging as many women in his lifetime as possible.
I don’t get the impression that he is. He’s more centered and grounded. He’s more mature than he was back then. But I also need to remind myself that he’s the face of a multi-billion-dollar company and has to project a certain image. He has to carry himself with gravitas and a kind of wisdom. It could all just be an image he presents to the public that is as substantial as a puff of smoke on a breeze.
I don’t believe it’s fake or an act. I truly believe that he is just as I find him. That getting laid isn’t his primary motivation with me. I’ve been fooled before. But until he proves me wrong, perhaps I need to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Gabs was right in that I owe it to myself to at least explore these feelings I’m having and see where it goes.
I have no idea how I’ll juggle a relationship on top of everything else on my plate. But if this – thing – that exists between us is real, if it’s what I think it is and goes where I think it could, then I’ll find a way to make it work. Because if there’s one thing I do know, more clearly than anything else in my life, is that contrary to what people in my life may think, I
